Zoom Blog

In Die Die Dinosaur, maggots perhaps foretell the future and a political candidate might get their throat slit with a spam lid. The only named character in these gritty poems is “Nigel” who could be a peeping Tom from outer space. Perhaps it is Nigel who witnesses the shattering relevance of “when (the) bay doors of the pod close...this entire election cycle: poof.”

—Jennifer MacBain-Stephens, author of Your Best Asset is a White Lace Dress and The Messenger is Already Dead

Candy and rust abound in Michael Sikkema's new collection of poems. Die Die Dinosaur is a series of short psychobilly stanzas that run from humorous to poignant and across the growth and decay of both the natural and man-made worlds. This book looks to the future and its possibilities even if that possibility is probably our own extinction.

—Kenyatta JP Garcia, author of What Do the Evergreens Know of Pining, Yawning on the Sands, and Enter the After-Garde 1998-2010

Michael Sikkema is from rural Michigan.
Say hello at michael.sikkema@gmail.com.